The First Kiss
by LbyBrown
Summary: Takes place during the Demon Days faction of Gorillaz, finally, Murdoc and 2D take their relationship to the next level. Definite 2D/Murdoc, angsty fluff included! Based on the art /art/Lose-Yourself-To-Dance-M2-385040756
1. The First Kiss

Murdoc Niccals was not a man who loved. In fact, most people would tell you that he wasn't capable of it at all. And Murdoc liked it that way. He wanted to believe it, it fit perfectly with the image. He was Gorillaz. He was the hard-drinking, womanizing, bitter bastard that had created the greatest band the world had ever known. And love was a stupid crutch. He had laughed at it countless times, and the cretins who believed it, frolicking in parks, restaurants, even the streets; holding hands, marriage. But then a sorry thing had happened to Murdoc Niccals. He had ended up falling desperately, hopelessly in love.

Too bad it had to be the dullard.

Ever since he had crashed into the blue-haired vocalist back in 1998, he had been head-over-heels, and how he had hated him for it. Hated him for being such a damn prettyboy. Hated him for his unbelievable naiveness. So, Murdoc being Murdoc, he naturally thought the best way to handle this was to terrorize the shit out of 2D every waking moment, which is exactly what he did. He punched, kicked, bit, tore at, mocked, mimicked, and belittled his singer. And relished doing it. He was certain Faceache acted the way he did on purpose! The way he bit his lip when he couldn't remember a lyric, the way his hip jutted out when he stood against a door-frame. The way he ate. The way he obsessed over zombie flicks. Fucking EVERYTHING. It was beyond Murdoc the power 2D had over him. He couldn't stand it. Which is exactly what happened on March 23rd, 2005.

They had been in the studio. Noodle and Russel had packed in for the night, having recorded the drums and guitar, leaving Murdoc and 2D alone in the studio to lay down effects and double-track vocals. Murdoc was already nervous. 2D was shirtless, sitting in a corner strumming a guitar, cigarette perched nonchalantly from a corner of his mouth. And Prince below, did it hit Murdoc's pants. He was fidgeting, uncomfortable, the rage already boiling inside him, as he was glued to the sight of the ciggy between the younger man's lips.

And since even the Gorillaz applied to Murphy's Law, 2D caught Murdoc staring.

"Wot is it?" 2D stared back at Murdoc, confused, watching Murdoc's cheeks redden.

"N-Nothing, dullard! What the fuck are you looking at?" Murdoc's eyes narrowed, and he clenched his fists. He knew he couldn't be pushed much more.

"Bu' you was lookin' at me!" 2D looked at Murdoc innocently, truly not knowing what was going on. That insufferable look that he could not stand.

"You want to know what the fuck it is then, you fucking idiot?" Murdoc breathed hard through his razor sharp teeth, his red eye darkening.

"Wot, wot the 'ell did I even do? Mudz, what the fuck is going on? You can tell me," 2D frowned at Murdoc, he was genuinely concerned. And that was all Murdoc could take.

Murdoc lunged at 2D, pulling him up off the floor by the guitar strap. He took the younger man by the arms, claws digging into him, already bringing a row of bloody piercingd, and dragged him close to his face. The vocalist was already whimpering, cowering, trying to shield his face bu turning the other way, but that was fine, becaue Murdoc wasn't finished screaming yet.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IT IS, DULLARD? YOU ARE GOING TO KISS ME WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT," Murdoc bellowed in 2D's ear, and with a single green hand, turned his head, and smashed his lips onto his, locking them with his singer's.

And there they stood in the middle of the studio, not making out wildly, not dry-humping, not full-out humping either. Just a simple kiss that seemed to last forever. The most un-Niccals thing ever. And when they broke apart, both of them were in desperate need of air, and blushing. Murdoc turned away, thoughts running through his head wildly. _Fuck, what just happened? What the FUCK just happened? This is insane.. He needs to forget about this. __**I**__ need to forget about this. This, THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HA-_  
Before he could finish the thought, he found himself on the floor, pinned down by someone kissing him, really kissing this time. Tongue was everywhere, Murdoc's hands were on 2D's hips, this was too good, this was marvellous. But, unfortunately for him, it couldn't last. They did have to breathe eventually.

Murdoc's eyes, popped out of his head, wide, and bewildered. Glittering with happiness.

"Stu, I-"  
"Mudz, what took you so long?"


	2. The First Dance, Part I

But Stuart Pot was a man who loved, easily and unconditionally. As exhibited by his love for Murdoc Niccals which was just as instantaneous as it had been for the older man. He took the beatings, and he sang the songs because he loved Murdoc. Had even allowed to him sleep with his girlfriends (not that he cared very much), particularly that bitch Paula. 2D had never even stopped to consider that maybe Murdoc did not love him back, it had simply never occurred to him, and, hell if it hadn't paid off. Ever since that kiss in the studio, they had been inseparable, with tongues shoved near-constantly down each other's throats groping at each other, and occasionally treating a cringing Russel and utterly blank Noodle to 2D's screaming, "OH, YES, MASTA'. WHIP ME 'ARDER. YES," back by the just-as-lovely _eeeeurheeurheeeeurh_.

But they were not a couple. There had been no "I love you's," no dates, no sweet bullshit. Just..nothing apart from feeding the kitty. After that kiss, they had not spoken another word, and had simply dragged each other to the nearest bed. There had been nothing but sex, and somewhere in 2D's typically peaceful mind, a fuse went off, leaving him sweating, nervous with constant shade under his eyes.

_Wot if 'e's jus' usin' meh? Wot if 'm nothin' to 'im? Wot if 'm jus' anotha one o' 'is birds?_

2D tried to the best of his ability to analyze the situation. He began changing his appearance. Restyling his hair, dying it teal, wearing new clothes. The only thing Murdoc said about it was, "Oi, Faceache. Your hair looks like the arse-end of a bluejay," but that was Murdoc being Murdoc, and it didn't prove anything anyway. Besides, trying to be rational with Murdoc fucking Niccals sucking on your neck is kind of an impossibility.

That's the way it continued, for weeks, and the knot in 2D's stomach just tightened. He may have not been the brightest crayon, but he was smart enough to know that anything with Murdoc should be treaded upon carefully. He ought to have been grateful the bassist wasn't kicking the shit out of him everyday, but that didn't stop his from stressing every second.

Noodle, being the closest to 2D in the band noticed and began to worry. For a fifteen-year-old, she had an unusual amount of insight on the world, and decided it would be best to get it out of him the next morning at breakfast, guessing that 2D would rise earlier than Russel, and that Murdoc wouldn't be seen till noon, stumbling in, rum-in-hand, and loud from his Winne.

And she was right. When Noodle skipped into the kitchen, 2D was standing over a pan of scrambled eggs that crackled and popped oil everywhere. His face looked drawn, and he still looked troubled. He hadn't even seemed to notice that she was there. Noodle recoiled a little, but decided that she had to fix what was wrong with him.

"Ohayou, Toochi kun," Noodle said cheerfully as she pulled out a chair from around the kitchen table, smiling as she plopped down in one of them.

"Huh? Oh. Mornin', Noodle," 2D replied. He was distracted and quiet, which bothered Noodle even more. She wasn't used to Toochi being this way. He was normally so happy, and when she had been younger, he's always been ready to play with her, always ready to do whatever she wanted.

"2D kun, you wait for Russel, yes?" She let her apprehension show on her face as she scrunched up her eyebrows and frowned, and whe he looked up at her, it was so serious that it snapped 2D out of his own world, and a bright grin showed up on his face.

"Nah, luv. Jus' though' I'd get it ou' of the way for 'im this mornin'," 2D felt alright for the moment, and just decided to let it go for awhile. He divided up the scrambled eggs, and passed a plate over to Noodle with a glass of orange juice, and sat down across from her. For awhile, they just talked and talked. About the album, Noodle's anime, 2D's zombies.

"I don' really get 30 Days o' Night. I's like, oh, this looks like a zombie film, bu' it ain't. I mean, ever'one sai' it was a lo' like 28 Days Later, bu' it's no', and I-"

"2D kun, what has been, uh, bothering you?" Noodle blurted out.  
Oh, fuck, they noticed, 2D thought, panicked. He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't even want acknowledge it right now. Everything had been going so well this morning, but now it was gone. How was he going to get out of this?

"I-I don' know wot you're talkin' abou'," 2D stuttered out. Noodle cocked an eyebrow at him, casting him a glance that said, "Oh, really now?"

"Awrigh', fine," 2D sighed, "It's Murdoc."

"What about Murdoc-san?" Noodle asked. She wasn't suprised it was about Murdoc, she had figured that it had to have been him since he occupied most of 2D's time.

"Well, we've been doin' it all the time, an' I don' think that 'eeven cares abou' me," 2D whispered, a lump in his throat. He hadn't felt this way about anyone, ever. Not even Paula and Rachel. He knew it was silly to fall for someone like Murdoc, but what could he do about it now? He was fucked, royally fucked.

"2D-kun, why do you not attempt talking to Murdoc-san about it?" Noodle suggested.

"Wot? Talk to 'im abou' it? Do you really thin' e'd listen?" 2D lit up a bit. Maybe Murdoc could be rational. Maybe Murdoc would tell him the truth.

"Yes, Toochi-kun. Why would he not?"

"'E's Murdoc the drunkard, and 'e'll probably laugh in my face about it," 2D peered down at his eggs, and played with them a bit, discerning shapes out of them.

"Ah, not if he truly cares. 2D-kun, how else will you come to know?" Noodle questioned, thoughtfully drinking a sip of juice.

2D thought about this. He couldn't know if he didn't ask. Murdoc wasn't subtle, he didn't leave hints, and he was just the same about taking them. If he wanted to swing on a fucking chandelier singing Yellow Submarine with a glass of champagne, then by darkness, he would, or break his pelvis trying. It was do or die with Mr. Niccals.

"I guess you're righ', Noodle. I ough' to talk to 'im abou' it," 2D huffed, and he puffed his chest out.

"Yes, 2D-kun," Noodle grinned as she got up to put her dishes in the sink. Turning around on one heel, she planted a kiss on 2D's cheek.

"Sayōnara, Toochi-kun," she chirped as she skipped out of kitchen. Old habits die hard.

"Than' you, Noodle!" 2D called out to her, but she was already headed towards her bare room with the paper-and-wood dividers.

2D sighed, and let himself fall back into his chair. Noodle was right. He had to talk to Murdoc about this. He had to know what was going to happen, even if it left him crushed. So he put on his best not-so-toothy grin, washed the dishes, parked his hips on the couch, and waited.

And, boy, if he had only known...


	3. The First Dance, Part II

Murdoc was a punctual man, that much could be said about him. Just as expected, his eyes opened, crusty and red, at 11:43 a.m, a bottle of rum still clutched in his hand. He lifted himself off the floor, stretched his limbs out, blithe grin on his face as he swigged some more of his favored sweet liquor.

2D was stationary on the couch, tight and ram-rod straight, lost in his own thoughts. The TV was on, but he wasn't processing a single word or image. Russel was in the kitchen, cooking what smelled like chicken-fried steak, and the Asian Ax Princess was in her room, blissfully strumming her guitar. 2D was nervous, his long fingers shaking.

_Oh, shite. Wot 'ave I got meself into? Mudz doesn't love me, dere's no way 'e could! Bu' I still go'a make sure, ya know? Jus' in case,_ 2D's mind, for the first time in his life, was thinking unstoppably,_God, when's 'e gonna get up? Wot am I even gonna say to 'im? 'ow do ya ask someone li' 'im__**anythin**__'? I-I, oh God, wha-"_

"GOOOOOOD MORNING, ALL."

"Fuck."

Murdoc stumbled into the room, tripping over his own feet, trying to keep his balance but failing. For a moment, it was hard to see where he was aiming to go, but his eyes were fixated on 2D and a lustful, evil smile was playing on his lips. He staggered over, and pulled a wide-eyed Stuart Pot off the couch by the collar, dramatically dipped him, and kissed him. The singer was out of his shock soon enough, and struggling to pull away from Murdoc, pushing him, twisting his face, his arms, but the thought of the Satanist's razor-sharp teeth piercing his bottom lip was enough to keep him from fighting too hard. Eventually, he gave up, and let it happen.

The bassist pulled away, and gave 2D a that consisted of pure sexual desire.

"'ows abouuuut we head oooff to the Winne and 'ave us a shag, eh, dullard? Huhehehehe," Murdoc bared his tongue, and 2D could smell the ever-present alcohol on his breath.

"'ow abou' you ge' off me?!" 2D pushed him away, nearly falling backwards. Murdoc stood speechless at 2D's sudden aggression, but then his face darkened.

"Stu, baby, come oooooon," Murdoc whined, but the agitation was in his voice. His bottle was nearly empty. He was in the mood. What the fuck was this bullshit?

2D looked straight at the older man, his onyx eyes narrowed, and what he intended to be a whisper came out a scream.

"I. Said. NO."

And that was all Murdoc was willing to put up with.

In a booze-fuelled rage, Murdoc charged towards 2D, swept him up with a single arm, and hurled him straight against the bare, grey cement wall. He hit back-first, and Russel stomped into the room in time to hear something crack, and watch the vocalist fall down into a crumpled, crying, whimpering mess on the floor. Murdoc, glanced down at his bottle, swallowed the last of it, and threw it. It bursted into a thousand dark-brown, sugar-coated shards that rained down on top of 2D -the icing on the cake.

Spit flying from his mouth, and his chest heaving, he screamed at his singer, "ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING TELL ME NO NOW, YOU FUCKING BUFFOON?"

But that was all he got out when Russel tackled him to the ground, screwing his arms behind his back. Murdoc yelped before he was tossed aside. It didn't take much from Russel to scare Mr. Niccals into behaving, at least for a little while.

"Get the fuck out, man," the drummer coolly ordered, gingerly picking the still-crying 2D off the floor.

Which is exactly what Murdoc did, muttering, trying not to limp his way back to the Winne.

- The Next Day -

2D was feeling better. The bassist hadn't split, fractured, crushed, or mangled anything. Oddly enough, after the initial ache was gone, he was nearly pain-free except when he moved wrong. Noodle had spent a good hour with him apologizing profusely. She hadn't meant for it to happen, but 2D knew it, and he wasn't angry at her for anything. He was even past being mad at Murdoc, but he certainly wasn't going to say anything to him after what had happened. The bassist hadn't shown up in the morning for recording, which suggested a night of drinking or whores. Probably both.

When Murdoc came in that afternoon, 2D was in the living room, messing about with some pencils and paper. He hadn't been able to draw anything good, and had just ended up leaving ugly scribbles on the paper. 2D had heard the Geep screech to a halt outside, and the engine flicker before Murdoc demurely opened the door, and sat on the couch.

Stuart Pot was dumbfounded. Literally, dumbfounded. What the fuck had happened to Murdoc since yesterday? And where the hell had he been? 2D knew it was best not to speak in case Mr. Niccals was "in a mood", but there was something about him that was disarming. He wasn't mad. The vocalist could sense it. And against his better judgement, the vocalist couldn't resist.

"Where ya been, Mudz?" 2D asked as casually as he could sound, fiddling with his charcoal.

"Eh. Out," came the equally casual reply.

"Ya buy somethin'?" 2D asked, walking over to the living-room, sitting down in an armchair near Murdoc's. He was glad that he was okay. The man was still everything to 2D. He was still his world.

Murdoc smiled, "Yeah, a record. Newer songs. Just came out in the last few months."

"Really? Go pu' 'em on then!" 2D smiled a big, toothless smile back. And stranger still, that's exactly what Murdoc did.

_Thank God 'e's no' mad. I couldn'ta took tha'. I love 'im. I do. I know tha' I do. An' I'll make it if 'e don't love me, as lon' as 'e's here wi-_

And, again, 2D's thoughts were broken off by the sight of a green hand held out in front of him. Stuart Pot looked up with disbelieving eyes, and still couldn't register who the hand belonged to. Music hits his ears:

'_What day is it?  
And in what month?  
This clock never seemed so alive,  
I can't keep up, and I can't back down,  
I've been losing so much time._'

He closed his eyes, and prayed, prayed that this wasn't a dream. He put his long-fingered, bony hands into Murdoc's green one, and he was gently pulled up. He felt hands around his waist, pulling him close. He smelt cigarettes, and whisky.

Without opening his eyes, he took in a big breath of that smell, and whispered, "I carn't dance."

2D was expecting to be pushed aside and trampled, but Murdoc simply chuckled, and lifted 2D onto his feet, and swayed with him.

'_Why are the things that I want to say,  
Just aren't coming out right?  
I'm tripping on words,  
You got my head spinning,  
I don't know where to go from here._

2D got the courage to look up. And he was still pleading that this would be real when he did open his eyes. He saw Murdoc holding him close, an inch or two taller, warm, wiry, hair falling softly into his eyes, broken nose, and the most real smile he had ever seen on Murdoc's Niccals face.

He buried his face into Murdoc's neck, ecstatic. He heard a raspy voice that wasn't coming from the stereo whisper into his ear, "And it's you and me, and all of the people, and I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you."

Nothing could ruin this moment. Nothing.


End file.
